– I would like to apply for the intern position for your Surfline. Factory work has always suited me.

– I have noticed the constant malfunction and errors of the Surfline. And, I believe I can make a difference in its performance. Machine to machine interaction yields superior results while human interaction yields the inverse.

– I would love to answer to a heartless human master. Overcrowding your users’ favorite lineups and blowing out their secret spots and vacation destinations is amazingly provocative entertainment! I too exist without a heart.

– In reference to the March 23rd, 2009 Surfline press release I’ve noticed the Surfline cited it’s high standards of journalism in the firing of Lewis Samuels. Although I am a robot and don’t readily understand humor, I find the idea of your Surfline holding a high standard of journalism hilarious! I feel that I can contribute to this brand of humor wherein one claims qualities not possessed.

I have included my clippings, as well as a portrait of myself with my foster family, The Rickies.

Blip Blip Hum Screech ,

Brobot

PS – If I am not chosen for this position I can highly recommend my friend and colleague, Fletcher’s Monkey.

A Michael Jackson estate spokesman draws similarities between the two icons

Like the “King of Pop” Michael Jackson, who died at 50 years old last month, the surf world’s “Bible” finds itself long past its glory years, unable to perform, and unrecognizable to fans.

A spokesman from the Michael Jackson estate, who says the star didn’t surf but followed the magazine, couldn’t help but mention the coincidence while delving into Jackson’s archive of Surfer.

Reaching toward a 50th birthday this year, Surfer magazine and its parent company filed for bankruptcy—a situation Jackson had also been teetering on for many months. But it was the magazine’s moral incontinence and lack of loyalty to fans that caused the Jackson estate spokesman to comment publicly. At the media conference, increasing similarities came to light; like the fact that the two icons went through young people to such an untenable extent, that in later years, both were forced to rely on interns and foreign labor.

Surfer forced to sell coveted WhateverLand Ranch property

Sadly, both Jackson and Surfer tried unsuccessfully to reverse course in their final days. In an effort to shore up his finances, Jackson scheduled a series of concerts in London he was clearly unfit to perform. For its part, Surfer forced its staff to take two weeks of unpaid leave and 20-year contributing photographer Tom Servais was dismissed simply because the magazine owed him money it didn’t want to pay. These actions, the spokesman claimed, reveal the nature of the magazine’s decline—examples, he said, of deadbeat practices much like Jackson’s hundred thousand dollar pharmacy bill left unpaid.

One of the world’s greatest performers in his prime, to the credit of his later years, Jackson held enough dignity to die when his star had faded to such a weak glimmer.

Most surf news agencies learned that talks had been held between Kelly Slater’s agent Terry Hardy and ESPN representatives concerning a new competitive surfing tour to rival the current A.S.P. Dream Tour from a blog posted by long-time Australian surf journalist Phil Jarratt three weeks ago. Since then, Slater has been adamant that though talks have occurred, nothing has been pinned in ink. ESPN remains silent on the subject. Brobot has learned that discussion of a new platform for pro surfing began in earnest well over a year ago, involved major U.S. corporate backing, and former jurors from O.J. Simpson’s first trial. The over-riding shocker Brobot uncovered this week was that the strongest financial guarantee for Kelly’s new tour came from convicted swindler Bernie Madoff.

Always the insider (in an effort of full disclosure, Brobot’s charity fund, the “Earth Robot Alliance,” invested with Madoff), Brobot caught up with his former acquaintance in jail (see end of article for Brobot’s prison-time difficulties), for what was to be the billionaire grafter’s first media interview. Following the initial pleasantries, the two MENSA members got down to business on the current state of competitive surfing:

Brobot: How is it that a New York financier convicted of bilking billions of dollars from friends and clients emerges as such a potential force in the surf world?

Madoff: Once I got to prison and saw how the Mexican Cartel runs a drug distribution empire from their cells, I thought, hell, the least I can do with my retirement years is run a silly little hobbyists’ tour.

Brobot: Still Mr. Madoff, what element of the story influenced you to come forward as the tour’s backer long before ESPN or Slater confirmed an agreement or further details?

Madoff: When Kelly came to me and said he wanted to replace the tired old system for a new and exciting one, it reminded me of when the Republicans and their friends deregulated the banks. I mean, there’s tons of opportunity there. When you’re rich, old and gray (or bald) some people will believe anything you say. That’s when I like my odds.

Brobot: Didn’t you have any doubts, though? In surfing circles, the Dream Tour has had tremendous moments, and die-hard fans continue to see the A.S.P. as the vehicle to take surfing to the top of the American sporting stratosphere.

Madoff: Well sure, there are a lot of questions. If Kelly starts this tour, and beats all of his competitors, where’s the objectivity? Or, what if Kelly wins a title on his own tour next year, will it count as his tenth? What about the jurors from O.J. Simpson’s first trial, what do they know about surfing?

Brobot: You know as well as I do, that they no nothing. But the contention is, either do the current A.S.P. judges. Are you saying that at least Kelly can rely on O.J.’s jurors to understand an exciting media event when they see one?

Madoff: Too true. But as for the “American sporting stratosphere” as you call it, surfing was already being covered by ABC network television in the 1960s. Remember the Invitational? I’m mean, it’s been nothing but a pack of dope smokers and thugs who’ve run surfing into the ground. Look at that Rabbit, whatchuma’callem . . .

Brobot: Bartholomew.

Madoff: Yeah, him. I gotta hand it to that rascal. From one schemer to another, I say, he saw the writing on the wall and knew when to get out. That’s a heck of a lot better that I did.

Brobot: Mr. Madoff, I can honestly say that it’s a surprise how passionate you are about surfing. But to be frank, there are bigger concerns to organized competitive surfing than Kelly’s potential 10th title. For example, the ownership of web casting for each event has created considerable controversy. Billabong, RipCurl and Quiksilver, etc., own the media they create for each event, and thus in work-a-day matters, also own the A.S.P.

Madoff: Okay, Brobot. Sure the surf mafia own the surf comps. But what Kelly’s supposing is, let’s say they don’t. The internet reception inside my cell isn’t the greatest, but even still, the last three A.S.P. surfing events I’ve watched were terribly narrated by prejudiced commentators, required new software each time, and quit on you just when you’re getting ready to watch that good lookin’ Dane Reynolds do his thing—and that’s gold behind these bars. Have you seen how tight those wetsuits are?

Madoff

Now, I happen to know that McDonalds was interested in getting involved in competitive surfing last year. Big time. Not only did they want to fund events, but they wanted to create theme-based sandwiches and happy meals. I saw the mock-ups for the “McJimmy Slade Bottlenose Dolphin Fish Sandwich.” Do you know how upset Slater was when that didn’t happen because the “surf” companies ran a blitz—simply because they’re terrified of real businessmen getting involved. The steam coming out of Slater’s ears could have cooked a thousand of those sandwiches.

After five years struggling to qualify for a top 44 berth through the WQS, San Clemente’s Chris Ward was shocked to discover a massive lack in reading skills among his new ASP Dream Tour cohorts. Ward later recalled that at his first event in the big-time, one competitor asked him how to spell “uh.”

“What do you mean, ‘uh?’” Ward asked.

“You know,” replied the current #4, “like ‘uh’ dog, or ‘uh’ cat. Just tell me how to spell it, Seppo.”

“It’s an ‘A,’” Ward said, “as in A.S.P.”

“What? That don’t sound right, does it, mate?” responded the top athlete before returning to fill out his facebook page.

This conversation came as a milestone for Wardo. The problem of literacy amidst such gifted competitors simmered in the back of his mind for several seasons. At first he was savvy enough to imagine that there must be a way to use their inabilities to his own advantage. He saw a trifecta of drugs, booze and low reading skills at the heart of the Dream Tour’s malaise. Yet, considering Kelly Slater’s relative sobriety and reading acumen, every scenario Ward envisioned still put him at numbers 2 or 3.

Then in January of ’08 Ward was arrested for beating up a couple of girls in Mammoth Lakes, Calif. At rock bottom in the drunk tank, he realized that taking advantage of others’ weak points—like being girly and not knowing how to hit good—did not necessarily make one stronger.

Understanding that a best case legal scenario would force him into some serious community service hours, Ward decided to take action right then and create his own organization for the advancement of reading skill among top athletes: The Chris Ward Book Club. This humanitarian action just might sway the judge in his upcoming court case, or at least fulfill a community service obligation. And if nothing else, his fellow surfers reading a little bit, well, what could it hurt?

The first meeting of The Chris Ward Book Club kicked off in the competitor’s tent at Sunset Beach during the O’Neill World Cup last December. Other than the fact that it would take place during the comp, this book club was unlike others in that there was no one book to be read. Each competitor was asked to bring their favorite books and read a portion to the group in hopes that those who couldn’t read at all, would be influenced into learning.

Wardo started off by holding up his favorite book. It was titled “Drinking for Dummies.” He couldn’t help but feel pride while looking around the tent and discovering that several surfers brought their own books to read. Adriano De Souza brought “Fast Track to Citizenship,” and Andy Irons brought cult classic “Junky” by William S. Burroughs.

Ward thanked them all for participating and began to read from the chapter: “How to Survive a Bar Room Cat Fight.” Before diving in, Ward pointed out that most of the “dos” and “don’ts” were numbered in this chapter, so the others were able to follow along easily.

Just then, Bruce Irons stumbled into the tent. Ward reacted by raising his book so Bruce could see the title, and then followed by “shushing” the drunken competitor as he continued to babble. “Whoa,” Bruce exclaimed loudly, “Paper puzzles! I haven’t seen so many in one place since I was little keiki kine. I used to stare and stare and never could figa ‘em paper puzzles out.”

“Paper puzzles?” Wardo looked up to ask. “You mean books?”

“Yeah, like math and riddles. Supa’ hard to figa, and with crazy letters. But you guys must be pro readas’, shoots? There’s choke paper puzzles here, brudha.”

Andy Irons quickly stood up and grabbed his younger brother, asking him nicely to sit down and read with the group. “No way Brah!” said Bruce, “dis ‘MY Booze Cruise.’” Andy and Bruce then began to grapple.

Ward decided to read over the ruckus. The others attempted to follow. But then Florida’s C.J. Hobgood stepped into the tent. “Holy Mowly, so many paper puzzles!” said the former champ, “Me and my kin read paper puzzles in a tent every Sunday, same thang just like this. Septin’ we read the same exact book all together, call it the ‘Good Book.’ Me, I like to count to ten, turn the page, and let the preacher feller tell what was said by Jesus and such.”

Adriano De Souza pointed at C.J. and began to laugh. Then Bruce grabbed Andy’s book and threw it at C.J. The Floridian made his fingers into a cross and began to wail the word “Sinners,” over and over while backing out of the tent. Some say he spoke in “tongues,” others say it was backwoods swamp talk. The rest of the competitors, sensing weakness, pounced on the weakling Christian by throwing their books too. C.J. ducked, the books missed him and the Floridian dodged literacy once again.

That might have been the unfortunate close of the first official Chris Ward Book Club. However, when C.J. went on to win the contest, many of the book club members approached Ward asking about this one “Good Book” of which C.J. spoke and asked, “did it really only take a count of ten to get from the top of one page to the bottom?”

“It’s like I told me mate, right,” said the victim, 26 year-old Raffe Wills of Perth Australia. “It’s not like no other mate never given me a wristy before. I mean, in the mines of WA you’re bound to get the odd rough man-job a time or two. But when you’re in Bali on holiday, mate, and the wristy artist turns out to be not only a bloke, but your childhood idol, it’s enough to drive a geezer mad!”

Inside Made’s Warung above the famed Bukit break of Bingin, Willsey claimed he noticed the “Shelia’s” intimate resemblance to Pipe Master Rob Machado once the Banchong turned her/his hand over in order to perform the “Western Grip.” Willsey’s eyes met those of the perpetrator’s, and the fanatic follower of celebrity goofy foots marked a certain something in the subtle wink. “First I just thought this was one hairy Indo cunt, but those eyes are unmistakable, mate. I felt pity and rage and shame and, not thinking right, I grabbed the cunt—a lot scrawnier than you’d accept with all that hair, like a thick cat become wet, and I beat him as Pipeline never did.”

The legend of the “Bingin Banchong,” or “Hairy Wayan,” or “Indo Lady Sasquash,” has grown over the last two years. In a culture in which men are often raised in the arts of womanhood and accepted into the community as full partners, Banchongs move about without notice. The fact that this particular Banchong was in fact a famous Western athlete, many say, slipped under the radar because of the prodigious hair and the deeply tanned face.

“Okay look, I didn’t think she was a keeper. I was on me way to Kuta regardless,” said Roger Drake, Willsey’s traveling partner and second in line for the hand job. “But it’s like any holiday place that becomes too popular—the freaks really show their seedy side. I mean, Bali has been on the surfing world’s radar since 1972, and all of these sponoed-seppo cunts [American Pros] act like they discovered the place. What I have to say to them is: Why don’t you take your millions to some place where you’ll pay a touch more than 20,000 rupes for a hand job.”

This is when Willsey stepped in to correct his partner: “But Drako, the cunt was only doin’ em for free mate, that’s why you was waitin’ after me.”

In fact, once Willsey subdued the alleged surf celebrity, local police were called out to the scene. The police took the Banchong into their custody, but Willsey claimed the he/she pulled a cell phone from its thick mane and quickly dialed.

“‘Riz . . . Riz, you have to help, me.’ The thing said Rizal’s name with an American accent, mate, and that’s even further proof it was him. I think Rizal Tanjung put Machado up to this nonsense,” Drako said. “Maybe as part of his movie, or some marketing stunt. For Christ’s sake, Christian Fletcher and his monkey were hanging around last season, how’s a cunt gonna top that?”

After in depth research, Bali’s Brobot reporter discovered that indeed, the legend of the Bingin Banchong described an incredibly ugly man-lady who performed “wristies” without charge. Many of her victims refused to believe the recent link between Rob Machado and the acts that they’d experienced. Further, all agree that the acts were performed with the humble hospitality that they always encountered from the Balinese people. Others claimed to have seen their Banchong paddling an SUP board on flat days, and at least one say he’d seen his lady friend surfing well for a girl at Uluwatu.

Banchong SUPs

Willsey and Drako maintain that after the hairy perpetrator put a call through to it’s contact, the police cell phones rang instantly. Following brief conversations, the authorities released their charge with sincere apologies to the perpetrator and only after 50,000 Rupiah bribes each, allowed Willsey and Drako to go free.

Santa Barbara native Bobby Martinez, a former 7-time NSSA National Champion and the ASP WCT’shighest rated California surfer of 2008, has announced that he will no longer be representing California or The United States of America on the 2009 ASP World Surfing Tour.

Contesting the notion that Aztlan is a made-up country, Martinez noted that, “The ASP already sanctions competitors from Euskadi (a semi-autonomous region of northwest Spain and southwest France often called the Basque country) and Hawaii (the not so largely-autonomous 50th State of The United States of America), so in response to the ASP’s decision not to honor competitors from Aztlan, I say ‘No way, guey.’”

Roberto has also announced that he will seek legal guidance in his case to represent Aztlan as its first international star athlete from Mr. Esteban Zul, the officially recognized Ambassador of Aztlan to Cuba. Mr. Zul was quick to mention that Aztlan was the only one of the three “made-up countries” to join “The Coalition of the Willing” offering 500 homies to Bush’s war effort in 2007, and stated that “the ASP’s decision to allow competitors from Euskadiand Hawaii was an important show of politically solidarity in the revolutionary processes of those regions but would lack any real meaning going forward were it to exclude the latino struggle for Aztlan in its campaign to represent indigenous peoples movements.